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Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Fight
Ride
Amaze
Blood
Gentleman
Archer
Head
Draw
Spur
Fighting
Draws
Spurs
War
Horse
Gentlemen
Welkin
Hard
England
Arrows
Staves
Broken
Bold
Yeoman
Proud
Horses
Archers
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Nothing routs us but the villainy of our fears.
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in black ink my love may still shine bright.
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Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker than your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repair Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen Neither in inward worth nor outward fair Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
William Shakespeare
Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
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I and my bosom must debate awhile, and then I would no other company.
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When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air the earth sings when he touches it the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
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Things may serve long, but not serve ever.
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Art made tongue-tied by authority.
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This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.
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Polonius: Do you know me, my lord? Hamlet: Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
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Covering discretion with a coat of folly.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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Every subject's duty is the Kings, but every subject's soul is his own.
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Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye.
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Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion!
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Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house as your pearl in your foul oyster.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
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The Eyes are the window to your soul
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Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
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My wits begin to turn.
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